TO: Rei Davis
FR: Phoebe J. Hollinger
RE: Are you busy?
If you don't already have plans with Darren tonight, do
you want to get together?
P.J.
Hollinger/Hansen: San Francisco, Tokyo, London, New York
Diversified Financial Services, Individual Client
Commitment
TO: Phoebe J. Hollinger
FR: Rei Davis
RE: Tonight I don't have any plans. Derek took me to The
Top of the Mark last night. (Keep your I-told-youso to
yourself, though. The irony that was not lost on me.)
I finally broke up with him. (Keep your I-never-liked-him-
anyway to yourself, too.)
Rei Unified Family Court, 400 McAllister Street, San
Francisco
All kids need is a little help, a little hope and somebody
who believes in them. — Earvin "Magic" Johnson
RE: Single again
I told you The Mark was a weird choice for a date. That's
where sailors had their last drink before shipping out to
the Pacific in WWII.
Well, I'm sorry it's over but, hell, I never liked Derek
anyway. Like the other men you've chosen, he was
opinionated, self-righteous and argumentative. You
shouldn't date lawyers. When are you going to admit that
I'm always right? P.J.
RE: Already over it
Nice ego there, honey. You should have that checked.
And I told you not to say I told you!
I'm not as sorry as maybe I should be. Then again, it's
not like we were serious.
Rei
RE: You can't be serious
Never had sex with him, huh? I think one of our Break Away
Nights is in order. I heard about this new place, Divas.
Thursday night is Ladies Night so there's bound to be
great people (by that I mean men-who-are-not-lawyers) for
you to meet. I'll pick you up at your house at nine.
P.J.
RE: Break Away Night
Is that my nine or your nine? Because my nine is actually
nine, whereas your nine usually means ten. So why don't we
say eight? That way we'll both be on time.
Recess is almost over. See you later.
Rei
SUPERIOR COURT Commissioner Rei Davis clicked the button
to send the message to her best friend then signed out of
her e-mail program. Turning her chair, she gazed out the
small grimy window to the French Renaissance facade of the
War Memorial Opera House across Van Ness Avenue. She'd
never actually been to an opera or even listened to one to
find out if she liked it. Something else to add to her
Life List.
Life. The word had a wonderful feel, one that spread
through her like bright rays of sunlight through cloud.
She'd just gone for her checkup with Dr. Solís this past
Monday,April seventh, one year to the day.... She was
blessed to still be alive and she knew it.
As she heard the outer door to her chambers open, she
turned to see Mary Alice, her court services clerk. The
petite older woman held an armful of case files, a harried
expression on her kind face. "They're ready for you,
Commissioner. Five walk-ins were just added to the docket,
including a case that was transferred from Judge Shuford."
She schooled her expression, repressing a sigh. She'd
already handled thirteen cases before calling a recess for
lunch. Now the afternoon caseload would either run late or
have to be rescheduled.
"All right, thanks. I'll be right in."
Once upon a time, she really had been quick-tempered and
over-ambitious, an impatient and obsessively ambitious
corporate law attorney who treated everything in her life
like a merger or acquisition. Then she'd discovered a lump
in her right breast that irrevocably changed her life...
Despite a partnership being well within reach, she had
quit her lucrative position with the law firm. Instead
she'd accepted a position as a referee, a Family Court
officer appointed by the presiding judge to hear cases
that involved juveniles. She'd been given a second chance
and wanted to make a difference in the lives of others.
She'd thrown herself into the job and three months later
applied for one of the vacant Court Commissioner slots.
Family was the thread that wove together the fabric of
society, the backbone of civilization. On a good day, she
was proud to help maintain the family structure by
approving adoptions, resolving custody disputes and
returning kids in foster care to their homes.
Lately, however, she felt tired and disillusioned. The
docket before her made it easy to believe the backbone of
civilization was twisted and crumbling beneath the weight
of crime, abuse and neglect. There were too many days when
she felt like all she could do was shovel sand against the
surge. But life was precious, especially the life of a
child who had so much ahead if only someone gave them a
chance.
Rei pushed away from the desk and stood up, brushing a
hand over her chignon, and reached for the black robe
hanging on her coat rack. Squaring her shoulders, she
mentally prepared herself to tilt at some windmills and
try to turn a few tides.
"VISITATION IS HEREBY revoked pending the Defendant's
completion of both anger management and substance abuse
programs. Mrs. Landis will continue to have full custody
of the children."
"You can't do this! You can't take my kids away from me!"
"I just did, Mr. Landis." Rei spoke sharply and frowned at
the alcoholic who thought it was okay to strike his sons
with a beer bottle. "We'll reexamine this matter in three
months. But for now, we're done here."
"I'm their father and I can damn well discipline my boys
when they need it. You're not taking my kids!"
Gathering the case files off the bench, Rei briefly
glanced at Landis while a bailiff forcibly removed him
from the courtroom. He didn't deserve those kids. Or more
to the point, those kids didn't deserve him. Ignoring the
empty threats echoing from the hall, she called the next
case, Cannon v. Ogilvy.
"Mr. Willette, am I reading this file correctly?"
Rei shot a baleful look at the young attorney standing
before her. "You're bringing charges of stalking and
harassment?"
"That's right, Your Honor. My client, Cindy Cannon, told
her parents that James Ogilvy has been following her
around and won't leave her alone."
"Your client is six years old, Mr. Willette, and so is the
Defendant." She scowled at the child's mother. "I can't
believe you're wasting the Court's time with this."
Mrs. Cannon, a prissy brunette with rigid features, stood
up and wrung her hands. "Cindy talks about this boy all
the time. She says he trails after her on the playground,
tries to sit next to her at lunch and hides notes in her
book bag."
"That would be exhibits one through five, Your Honor."
Rei held up the multi-colored sheets of construction
paper. "You mean these crayon drawings of hearts and
smiley faces, Mr. Willette?"
Defense counsel stood as well, but Rei held up one palm
before she could speak. "Don't bother, Ms. Schaefer. I'm
on it.
She slid the "love letters" back into the file and shut it
with a snap. "What we have here, people, is a case of very
innocent, very normal, puppy love between elementary
school children. Nothing more. Mrs. Cannon, I'm sure there
are plenty of women at St. Francis Hospital who could clue
you in about what stalking really is. I suggest you get a
grip on reality. Case dismissed. What's next?"
"Good afternoon, Commissioner Davis. Frank Dowd, Assistant
State's Attorney." He smoothed his tie. "Bruce Grayson is
accused of viciously beating an elderly storeowner during
the course of an attempted robbery."
Rei glanced over at the child slouched in a chair beside
his lawyer. Bruce still had the chubby-faced appearance of
a young boy, but his sullen expression and ancient eyes
told another, too familiar story. Did happy childhoods
only exist in movies and wishful thinking anymore?
"Jeffrey Bates for the Defense, Your Honor. Bruce is only
twelve years old. He comes from a broken home, has been in
and out of foster care —"
Dowd interrupted. "Yeah, yeah, we all know the heart-
breaking story."
Rei tapped her gavel. "Watch it, counselor."
"Sorry, Your Honor. But due to the severity of Mr.
Patterson's injuries, as well as Mr. Grayson's priors, the
State feels he should be tried as an adult."
"Incarceration in an adult facility will only turn Bruce
into a hardened criminal." Bates held up a file.
"Our psych eval —"
This time Rei interrupted him. "Hold it, gentlemen. This
is going to take longer than we have." Thursday was one of
the two days reserved for short cause matters — the cases
had to be heard in less than twenty minutes — and Fridays
were reserved for adoptions. She looked over at her
clerk. "We'll reconvene..."
"Monday at nine thirty," Mary Alice interjected. "Monday
at nine thirty. Thank you, until then." Rei felt a tug in
her gut as she watched the boy swagger out of the
courtroom, shoulders squared and expression unrepentant.
The postponement meant a few more nights in juvenile hall,
but she had to have time to study his record and
evaluations and hear all the facts surrounding the case.
At best he'd spend the next six years in a California
Youth Authority camp. At worst he would only be in CYA
until he turned sixteen then be sent to the Department of
Corrections. She hoped she could find a spark of
redemption in Bruce Grayson before it was too late. She
hated putting children behind bars, no matter what they'd
done.
Shuffling the Grayson case aside, Rei called the next
matter. Break Away Night couldn't start soon enough.